DEAR MR. PUNCH,--You are fond, in "Charivaria," of poking some of your gentle fun at the leisurely bricklayer, and indeed at all the "ca-canny" brigade; but the bricklayer has come in for the thickest of your fire. I hope, however, that you don't think you have discovered his and his fellow-workers' deliberate processes yourself. If so, permit me to draw your attention to NED WARD'S _London Spy_, which was published as long ago as 1699. In that work is the description of a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral when it was building. A passage in this description runs thus: "We went a little further, where we observed ten men in a corner very busie about two men's work, taking so much care that everyone should have his due proportion of the labours as so many thieves in making an exact division of their booty. The wonderful piece of difficulty the whole number had to perform was to drag along a stone of about three hundredweight in a carriage, in order to be hoisted upon the moldings of the cupola, but they were so fearful of despatching this facile undertaking with too much expedition that they were longer in hauling about half the length of the church than a couple of lusty porters, I am certain, would have been carrying it to Paddington without resting of their burthen." Shall I refrain from remarking that there is nothing new under the sun? I will. Yours, etc., L. V. E. * * * * * NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN. THE BARNACLE. (_A Sort of Sea Shanty._) Old Bill Barnacle sticks to his ship, He never is ill on the stormiest trip; Upside down he crosses the ocean-- If you do that you _enjoy_ the motion. Barnacle's family grows and grows; Little relations arrive in rows; And the quicker the barnacles grow, you know, The slower the ship doth go--yo ho! Thousands of barnacles, small and great, Stick to the jolly old ship of State; So we mustn't be cross if she seems to crawl-- It's rather a marvel she goes at all. A. P. H. * * * * * "Priests preach the want of brotherhood in the Anglican Church, but many, I am sorry to say, do not practise what they preach." _Letter to Daily Paper._ Is not this carrying the reactionary spirit a little too far? * * * * * AT THE PLAY. "THE DRAGON." Some day, no doubt, plays like _Mr. Wu_ and _The Dragon_ (by R. E. JEFFREY) will be forbidden by the League of Nations. Meanwhile let us allow ourselves to be diverted by the motiveless villainies of crooked cruel "Chinks" like _Wang Fu Chang_, who sold opium at a terrific profit in Mayfair, hung his servants up by their thumbs and belonged to a Society of Elder Brethren, as to whose activities we were given no clue, unless indeed their job was the kidnapping of Younger Sisters for Wicked Mandarins.